Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sonnet 47 - Sir Philip Sidney

Another charming, dramatic love sonnet by Sidney.  His cleverness and excellence make even his 'courtly' subject matter -- which he certainly knew was conventional and a bit corny -- entertaining and even effective.  A vocab note: sprite = spirit.  And when he talks about "black beams", he's talking about Stella's glance -- she has black eyes.

Sonnet 47

What, have I thus betrayed my liberty?
Can those black beams such burning marks engrave
In my free side? or am I born a slave,
Whose neck becomes such yoke of tyranny?
Or want I sense to feel my misery?
Or sprite, disdain of such disdain to have?
Who for long faith, though daily help I crave,
May get no alms but scorn of beggary.
Virtue, awake! Beauty but beauty is;
I may, I must, I can, I will, I do
Leave following that which it is gain to miss.
Let her go.  Soft, but here she comes.  Go to,
Unkind, I love you not! O me, that eye
Doth make my heart give to my tongue the lie!

No comments:

Post a Comment